The Poverty Diet...A Poem

I could buy
99 cent bread and milk
or a few gallons of gas
to go to work or pay
for a bus ride to nowhere or
maybe even keep my job but
then my family doesn't eat because
I needed to get to work and
use the money for gas but
then i get fired anyway cuz my kids get sick and
I had to stay home and
get medicine with my last dollar and
then the man comes to turn off the heat and
my kids have to eat a cold can of soup.
The man decides,
the man decides when I work,eat,heat my house.
The man decides.
He pushes the buttons,
he pushes my buttons,
he pushes me to the wall.

Lucya W.K.Lebid @2008